


A Wizard's Butler

by CrazyJanaCat



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling, Kuroshitsuji | Black Butler
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Character Death, Demons, M/M, No Fluff, Past Rape/Non-con, Past Torture, Politics, Revenge, Smart Harry Potter, Underage Sex, Violence, Well-Meaning Dumbledore
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-12-17
Updated: 2019-02-01
Packaged: 2019-02-16 07:01:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con, Underage
Chapters: 4
Words: 14,824
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13048920
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CrazyJanaCat/pseuds/CrazyJanaCat
Summary: After being kidnapped by Death Eaters at the age of nine, Harry’s life changes drastically. By the time he enters Hogwarts, he is followed by a mysterious butler dressed in black.





	1. His Butler, Meeting

Albus Dumbledore appeared in Pembroke with a soft ‘crack’. Once again, he looked at the letter in his hand, his old, wizened face turning into a scowl.

_Lord H. Potter_

_Master Bedroom_  
Potter Manor  
Pembroke, Wales

Last he had heard of Harry, he had been left in the care of his aunt Petunia Dursley née Evans. What the boy was suddenly doing in Wales and why he was already being addressed by Hogwarts’ magic as _Lord_ Potter, even though the boy was not even eleven years of age. Albus had so many questions for the boy, but they would have to wait until he had handed Harry his admittance letter.

Albus paused as he reached the driveway of the large manor house, he paused. It had been decades since he’d last seen it. Back when Fleamont and Euphemia had still been Lord and Lady Potter. They had lived out their retirement in here as well, and after they passed, James had refused to set foot in the place again.

Lily had thought it too big for their small family anyway.

Albus had mourned the house, though. It was a beautiful manor, filled with expensive heirlooms and tasteful decorations. He had loved visiting it, if only for the beautiful gardens and the incredible works of art. Perhaps Petunia had similar thoughts on the matter and she had moved her family here, closer to Harry’s roots. Albus sincerely hoped that was the case.

The large oak double doors had a beautiful intricate design in stainless steel of deer roaming together. One of them, a beautiful stag with silver-painted antlers held a knocker in its mouth. It looked newer and more well-cared for than Albus had ever seen it in the past. He barely even dared to grasp the knocker and bring it down on the door.

The sound of his knocks rang out and echoed through the large entrance hall Albus knew lay behind the intricate door. The soft clicks of footsteps approaching had the old wizard straighten up in anticipation. He wondered who would be opening the door. Clearly not a House Elf, as those tiny creatures were perfectly silent in their movements. The door opened with a soundless ‘swish’ and a tall young man smiled down at Albus.

Albus narrowed his eyes in suspicion. He had never before seen this man, nor did he feel like either a muggle or a wizard. He was certainly handsome, with high cheekbones, a sharp chin and a pale complexion, which stood out starkly with his raven black hair. It was cut in two tips framing his face and hiding his ears while held short in the back. His clothes were almost as dark as his hair. He wore a classic muggle butler uniform. Bangs covered his forehead, stopping short from hiding his eyes. Albus tensed, his eyes widening in shock. The man’s eyes were blood red.

_Just like Voldemort._

“How may I help you?” the man asked, his voice a soft timbre.

“Ah. My name is Albus Dumbledore, I’m here for-” started introducing himself, only to be cut off by the stranger.

“Ah, yes. The Headmaster,” the man spoke, smiling jovially. “The young master has been eagerly expecting his letter. Would you like to come in?”

“I would, yes. Thank you.”

The man smiled again and opened the door wider. He stepped aside to let Albus inside and closed the door again after him, the sound of it somehow sounding so much louder than it was supposed to, making a strange dread fill Albus’ chest. After that, Albus was led through the large hall, which was decorated by several muggle paintings. Albus, while not an art expert, was pretty sure he recognized at least one Van Gogh and a Magritte. Considering the art and the butler, it seemed Harry and whoever was caring for him, were doing quite well for themselves.

“Can you tell me who you serve, exactly?” Albus asked as he followed the butler.

“I serve the Lord of the House, of course,” the man chuckled. “Lord Harrison James Potter-Black.”

Albus’ eyes widened at that. So Harry indeed had claimed his titles. He hadn’t even known it was possible. Usually, one could only claim their Lordship once they became of age.

“How was he able to claim those titles?” he asked.

The butler smiled mysteriously and opened the door to a drawing room. The inside was beautifully decorated in different shades of red, often decorated with gold. The seats were made of deep crimson, with burgundy fluffy pillows and the coffee table was solid mahogany, polished until Albus could see his reflexion on its surface. The dark marble floor was largely covered by a cream carpet and the walls were scarlet with golden deer prancing around, their eyes a beady black.

This was also the first magical part of the house Albus witnessed, as the deer actually moved. The next would be the enlarged picture of James and Lily on their wedding day over the large, black-stoned fireplace. Albus smiled softly as he recognized the moment the picture was taken as during their first dance.

“I will inform the young master of your presence,” the butler announced from behind him. “Would you like some tea while you wait, sir?”

“Just some chamomile if you wouldn’t mind,” Albus replied with a kind smile.

The butler nodded and clapped his hands. With a loud popping sound, a House Elf appeared in front of the butler, her big brown eyes looking up at him in obvious awe and adoration. To Albus’ surprise, the elf wasn’t wearing the usual dish towel or pillow case, but instead a maid’s dress. The main dress itself was black, with a wide skirt that had white frills going down the bottom of it. The sleeves were short and puffy, and it had a white collar. Over it, the elf wore a simple white apron with frills on the shoulders and a typical white maid’s headdress.

“Our guest would like chamomile tea, Betty,” the butler spoke.

“Of course Mister Sebastian!” the elf squeaked excitedly before turning to look at Albus with inquisitive eyes. “Master guest bes wanting some snack with the tea, sir?”

“Some scones if you have it, perhaps,” Albus decided, too shocked to really react otherwise.

The House Elf bowed low and popped away again. Albus stared at the spot she had been for a few more moments before looking back at the door, his mouth already opening to form one of the many questions swirling around in his mind, only to find the butler already gone.

Albus scowled and sat down on the plush loveseat. He couldn’t help but sigh in please as he leaned back in the pillows. It was by far the most comfortable seat he’d even placed his backside on. He almost fell asleep until another ‘pop’ alerted him that Betty was back with his tea. The House Elf grinned cheerfully at him as she set the floating tea-set down on the table. She had brought two cups, but only filled one for the moment.

“Betty, was it?” Albus asked the elf genially.

Betty’s grin brightened and she nodded her head excitedly. The reaction had Albus smile as well and he murmured a soft thanks when the elf handed him his tea.

“How long have you worked here, Betty?”

“Betty has served the Potter Family since Master Fleamont was just a baby, Master guest!” the elf replied happily. “But Master Harry bes the first to pay Betty and other elves for their work! Master Harry bes such a good master. Betty bes very lucky to serve him.”

Albus almost choked on his tea. He had never before heard of anyone _paying_ their House Elves.

“He pays you?” he asked shocked.

“I do not condone any type of slavery, Headmaster Dumbledore,” a soft, yet somewhat stern child’s voice rang out.

Albus looked up startled, his eyes widening even more as he saw the young boy walking into the room, followed by Sebastian the butler, who was smirking as if Albus had been caught with his hand in the cookie jar after he had gone to tell on him. There was something very off about that butler and it made Albus very nervous.

“I must admit, I had expected my Hogwarts letter to come by owl,” the boy spoke up, looking at Albus with a questioning green gaze.

_He had Lily_ _’s eyes_ _… err_ _… eye._

For some reason, Harry had an eyepatch over his right eye. The eyepatch itself wasn’t bland either. It was black, but with small green gems imbedded in the form if an eight-pointed star. He wore a black three-piece suit with a jade green silk tie and polished black dress shoes. His hair, while wild, was carefully slicked into place to give him an air as if he was several years older than he really was, which was fortified by the indifferent look in his single visible eye.

The boy’s hands, which rested on top of one another on a walking cane, were adorned by several rings. On his left index finger lay the Potter Lord Ring. A thin golden band with a rather large ruby in the middle, held up above the simple band by what looked like small silver antlers. On his left ring finger sat a black gold band, adorned with an intricate design of Celtic knots that held together three emeralds. On the middle and largest one, Albus could vaguely recognize the Black Crest.

A silver ring with a large blue stone in an octagon cut sat on Harry’s left thumb, but the most surprising of all was by far the large, gaudy ring on his middle finger. There was no way Albus wouldn’t recognize the large black gem, cut in a sharp-tipped square, held in the two maws of a golden snake, who had another head instead of a tail. Even if he hadn’t been able to see the mark of the hollows on the dusty black stone, he’d still know it.

_The Resurrection Stone._

On his right hand, his index, middle, ring and pinkie finger were adorned by signet rings. Albus suspected they belonged to the four House Rings on the left hand. The only crest he didn’t recognize was the one on the boy’s index finger. It likely belonged with the unfamiliar blue ring.

As Albus silently observed him, the boy cocked his head curiously, vanquishing the illusion of a small adult. He grinned then, showing straight white teeth as his left eye started to sparkle with something like amusement.

“Am I not what you had been expecting, Headmaster?” the boy asked. “I assure you, I _am_ Harry Potter… I am who you’re here for after all, right?”

“Y-yes! Of course!” Albus agreed immediately. “I must admit though that you are indeed a little different than I had been anticipating.”

The boy chuckled and moved into the room, his steps worryingly unsteady, as if he was in pain just walking. He seated himself in the armchair across from where Albus sat with a soft sigh. The butler moved towards the small table and poured a second cup of tea before handing it to Harry, who nodded at his servant as he accepted it. The cup rattled in the boy’s heavily shaking hands, making Albus frown.

“Are you alright, my boy?” the old wizard asked gently.

“As well as I can be, considering my condition,” the boy replied dismissively. “I have severe nerve damage, which has led to chronic pain, weak muscles and the shaking you currently see.”

Albus’ eyes widened in shock at the confession before his expression turned mournful. He had hoped that leaving Harry to grow up far away from his fame would allow the boy a happy childhood. It seemed, however that somehow, this wasn’t exactly how it had gone for him.

“I’m so sorry to hear that, Harry,” he murmured.

“I have no use for pity, Headmaster,” the boy waved off carelessly. “However, I do have a few requests for you on the matter.”

“Of course my boy! Ask away!” Albus agreed instantly. “If you don’t mind, however, I do have some questions for you after.”

“I suspected as much,” Harry said, laughter clear in his voice. “As you see, I have good days and bad. Mostly, I’ll get around well enough with a few pain relief potions. However, some days my condition gets so bad that I am unable to do even the simplest of tasks, such as dressing myself or writing. So, I would really appreciate it if you were to give Sebastian permission to join me at Hogwarts.”

“I understand,” Albus said, nodding. “I see no reason why he wouldn’t be allowed to join you. It is after all, for medical reasons. I can even ensure you will get a private bedroom with an attachment for your butler to stay.”

Harry smiled brightly at this and nodded his head in agreement. Albus couldn’t help but give a small smile in reply. Harry was an odd boy to be sure. One moment, he was cold and distant, but the next, he could smile so brightly he lit up the room. There was still some hidden innocence that shone in the one visible eye sometimes and it gave Albus hope for the boy’s future.

“My boy. I had hoped to speak with your aunt as well,” Albus spoke.

This had Harry chuckling and he placed his cup of tea back on the table before leaning back in his seat. Behind him, the butler Sebastian had a wide, knowing smirk as he stared down at Albus.

“I’m sure she’ll be happy to meet you,” the boy replied amused. “I heard child abusers don’t get a lot of visitors in prison.”

Albus’ eyes widened and he paled in horror.

“Did-did they-…” he murmured quietly, his voice quivering slightly.

“No,” Harry denied, the amusement melting from his face as he scowled. “They weren’t the cause of my condition. At least not the main cause.”

“Would you be opposed to telling me what happened to you, my boy?” Albus asked softly.

Harry closed his eyes at the question and took a deep breath before looking back at Albus with a cold expression. He suddenly looked so much older, jaded and Albus couldn’t help but dread the answer he would receive.

“I understand the importance of telling _you_ , headmaster, but it is very personal, and if I even notice a single whisper of it mentioned in public, I will ruin you,” the boy warned coldly.

Albus swallowed down his shock and nodded his head in understanding. Harry was nothing like he had expected him to be. Instead of the bright-eyed youth, full of life and innocence, before him sat a man in a child’s body. Scarred and his eye was as hard as diamond. Whatever this boy had gone through, Albus could already tell that he would regret finding out.

“I, Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore, hereby swear to keep Lord Harry James Potter’s past a secret to all but those who already know unless I have been given express permission of Lord Potter himself. So mote it be.”

A flash of light indicated his Wizard’s Oath was accepted and he looked at Harry with a soft smile. Harry smiled back, his shoulders relaxed slightly, but Albus could still read some distrust in the boy. He suspected it was ingrained in the child not to trust adults, as it was with many like him who came from abused households. It pained Albus that he hadn’t been able to prevent it. It almost felt like failure on his part to protect the boy.

“My relatives never liked me,” Harry started in a soft, detached tone. “My uncle beat me and verbally abused me, my aunt ignored me and starved me, and my cousin learned from an early age that freaks like me only existed to be hurt by good and normal folk like himself.”

Albus sat completely still in his seat. He barely even dared to breath as he noticed the far-away look Harry got into his eyes.

“I suppose, all in all, it wasn’t that terrible, though,” the boy murmured. “I slept in the cupboard under the stairs and was made to do a lot of chores, but I had warm clothes and food. Luxuries I came to miss once I lost them.”

“How did you lose them?” Albus whispered, terrified of the answer.

Harry’s green eye snapped over to him, cold and calculating in a way he had only ever seen in young Tom Riddle’s dark eyes. The similarities were worrying, but Albus had sworn never to fail a child under his care again, and he would keep that promise, even if he died trying.

“I was nine,” Harry told him. “At Christmas day, my relatives always went to church. I wasn’t allowed with them. I think they feared I wouldn’t be able to cross onto hallowed ground or something similar.”

Here, he snorted bitterly, and the butler Sebastian gave a vicious grin, as if it was the most amusing thing he’d ever heard. The look in those red eyes made Albus shiver, and he quickly refocussed on Harry, who continued his recounting.

“Usually, they left me with an old woman down the street whenever they went out, since they didn’t trust me alone in the house, but Mrs. Figg was hospitalized for a broken ankle. Still, they didn’t want me with them or in the house, so I was locked out of the house the entire day.

“After a couple hours I started to worry that I would freeze to death before church was over, and I had settled myself not that far away, so that I would surely see my aunt and uncle returning right away. Most of the by-passers side-eyed me with suspicion. My relatives had made sure I had the reputation of a delinquent and a liar, you see, so that any bruise I showed up with was only ever glanced at with the thoughts that I must have deserved it.

“So, I’m sure you can imagine that a child who had never known kindness would be overjoyed when a stranger walked up and offered them a cup of hot Choco if I came with him. I foolishly did, and once we were out of anyone’s sight, he grabbed me and suddenly, the world tilted and changed and I was in a house I had never seen before.”

He paused again to lean forward and pick up his cup again in heavily shaking hands. He took a calm sip while Albus could do nothing but stare in silence. Harry… had been kidnapped… by a wizard. He couldn’t help but glance over to the butler in suspicion, only to find the red gaze of the man focused on him in return with a slow smile stretching those pale features once more.

“He threw me in the basement and gave me my very first taste of the Cruciatus Curse,” Harry continued in such a soft tone that Albus almost didn’t hear it. “After that, he left me in there for several days until I was sure that he had completely forgotten about me and I would die in there, only for him to finally return with friends.”

Albus could already imagine what happened next. Death Eaters were more than infamous for their cruelty. He’d seen more than enough horrors in the past war with Voldemort to know that Harry wouldn’t have been spared just because he was a child.

“I learned a lot in the three months I was in that basement,” Harry stated, making Albus look up, finding the boy’s gaze on him, his head cocked to the side thoughtfully and childish. “I was so confused at first. They all talked about revenge and how their master would kill me once he returned. I didn’t understand. I was just a boy, and my parents were killed in a car-crash. What could I have possibly done to make them hate me so much?”

Albus, for the first time in a very long time, felt rage heat his blood. Petunia had left her nephew to believe such awful lies about his parents? How could she have been so disrespectful for their sacrifice?! After all Lily and James had done, their son didn’t even know…

“I eventually figured it must have been my parents,” the boy continued. “Vernon always went on about how they were good-for-nothing drunks, so they must have gotten in with the wrong folk and gotten me involved too, somehow. It was the only thing I could think of.”

“Oh, Harry,” Albus whispered miserably.

Harry held up a hand to stop the old wizard from saying anything else.

“I know it were all lies now,” he said. “I know they were killed by Voldemort, and I know these were his followers. They wore the masks and robes, but I have seen their Dark Marks on multiple occasions as well.”

Here, Harry paused again and gave another dark chuckle that had no right coming from a child’s mouth.

“You know, I learned some very interesting things about the Unforgivables,” the boy said. “Do you know what it is they do, Professor? Not the obvious things, but just how they manipulate your being to get the results?”

Albus blinked in surprise at that and shook his head.

“I’m afraid I never really bothered to dive deep enough to find out,” he admitted.

“The killing curse is the most straight-forward,” Harry told him in a tone filled with dark humour. “It very simply shuts the brain down. It goes faster than when you stop the heart. I heart can be started up again if one is fast enough, but once the brain is dead, it will stay that way. In addition, if the heart were the first to stop, the brains would stay active for another few seconds, leaving a person to hear and see for a little longer while they are technically already dead.”

“How fascinating,” Albus murmured. “I see how knowing this could be beneficial.”

“It still can’t be stopped though, but I agree that the knowledge of what the curse does can lead to a counter of some kind,” Harry agreed thoughtfully. “Now, I find the Imperius much more fascinating myself. You see, just as with the Killing Curse, it attacks the brains. Instead of shutting everything down, however, it focuses on the cortex cingularis anterior, the thalamus and the ponto-mesencephalic brainstem. Very similar to hypnosis, but several times more powerful.”

Albus scowled confused at the difficult words the boy used. While the old wizard was no stranger to muggle science, he had never been very good with them either. Lily had been great though. He remembered she had been studying muggle medicine when they had needed to go into hiding. She would be so incredibly proud of this intelligent boy.

“I’m afraid that I don’t understand much of what that could mean,” he admitted with a soft smile, he was too old to be ashamed of his ignorance. “Could you explain it to a poor old fool?”

Harry chuckled again, though it sounded far more genuine than before.

“Of course,” he agreed easily. “The cortex cingularis anterior is where our feelings of pain and our emotions are processed. So, by hypnosis and Imperius, it’s made to make us feel pleasant and relaxed. Happy, even. They take away fear, pain and anxieties, making you more willing to bend to their will.”

Albus hummed and nodded, indicating for Harry to continue as the boy gave a short pause.

“The Thalamus is a very important part of your brain, but it mostly for the processing of your senses. They’re usually dulled under the Imperius.” The boy continued his explanation. “Lastly, there is the ponto-mesencephalic brainstem, which is in charge of your reflexes and your focus. Once under the Imperius, your complete focus is drawn to the commands, making everything else disappear from your mind. Because of the pleasant feelings left behind from the cortex cingularis anterior and the thalamus, the subjects will believe that following the commands is the best thing to do, no matter what they are.”

“I see,” Albus hummed, stroking his beard as he looked at Harry. “Are you aware of any way to stop this from influencing you?”

“A strong will, headmaster Dumbledore,” Harry replied smirking.

He leaned forward again to place his now empty cup down and he took a scone. He took a small bite, but instantly dropped the scone back on the plate with a scrunched up nose.

“Sebastian, get me a treacle tart instead,” he ordered.

“Right away, young master,” the butler replied, bowing.

Harry watched as the man walked out of the room, before sighing and leaning his head back against the cushions of the armchair, his singular visible eye lazily refocussing on Albus.

“Do you want to guess what the Cruciatus Curse does?” he asked in a soft whisper.

“I would say… it attacks the cortex part of your brain?” Albus offered thoughtfully. “The one that processes pain?”

Harry smirked and shook his head, letting the few curls that hadn’t been slicked back bounce around his face cutely.

“You would expect so, since the other two work on the brain, but no,” he replied. “It actually attacks the sensory nervous system. It runs all through your body and is indeed connected with your spinal cord and the part of your brain to recognize pain and other sensations.”

Albus instantly put two and two together, his eyes widening in horror.

“You said you have nerve damage…” he whispered.

Harry inclined his head with a bitter smirk.

“It’s another thing I’ve learned during those three months,” the boy told him. “I’m sure you already knew this, but when someone is kept under the Cruciatus long enough, they will go insane from the intense pain. However, when the torture is broken up and spread out over a longer period of time, with breaks to allow the victim to recover at least somewhat, their nervous system will be fried before they lose their sanity.”

“Like happened to you,” Albus murmured, looking sadly at this poor child that had gone through so much already. “How come you haven’t come forth about the kidnapping? Perhaps you had been able to recognize any of your attackers?”

“I went to the muggle police after escaping,” Harry replied. “And the Death Eaters never took off their masks. I never bothered to look underneath them either after they died.”

If Albus had thought there were no more surprises from the boy across from him, he was very wrong. The confession made his eyes pop out in shock, before he closed them as grief overtook him. All the horrors the boy had been forced to go through.

“It wasn’t you… was it?” he whispered shakily.

“Your snack, young master,” the butler’s voice rang out.

Albus startled at the sudden return of the strange man. There was something… something _dark_ about the butler that had Albus on edge. It had been there since the start, but it seemed to have increased. His blood red eyes were glowing brightly with amusement and… pride?

“I have never killed anyone,” Harry told his future headmaster, making the older wizard sigh in relief.

“However, I have no intention to keep it that way.”

The dark tone Harry used was something that Albus hadn’t heard ever before. It was filled with repressed anger and pure, unadulterated hate.

Whatever the boy had planned for the future, Albus was sure he didn’t want to get on the boy’s bad side. He truly hoped that Harry would be able to put his hatred and thirst for vengeance aside when it was needed, though.

 


	2. His Butler, Preparations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> As promised, next chapter in the new year! Happy New Year everyone! I hope you enjoyed the holidays and may 2018 be wonderful and amazing for all of you!

 

Harry was awoken early the morning after Headmaster Dumbledore visited with his letter. He had never been much of a late-sleeper, so as soon as Sebastian walked into the room with his morning tea, Harry was sitting up and rubbing the last sleep from his eyes. When he had lived with the Dursleys, he had always been forced to wake early to help his aunt make breakfast for his obese uncle and cousin. More times than not, he hadn’t been allowed to eat any of it himself.

Harry’s life had never been easy. Never had he been allowed to be a child, to be happy and innocent. And even though those who would look upon him now would believe him to be living in the lap of luxury with no troubles plaguing him, his life was still hard. Sebastian would pounce on any weakness Harry would reveal the demon. He’d rip Harry apart. Harry had learned it first-hand. Any misguided trust or affection towards his butler had been violently squashed out not long after the demon had rescued him when he’d made his first – and last – mistake.

“Apple tea, young master,” Sebastian spoke as he handed the steaming cup to the young teen who had settled himself against the large fluffy pillows.

Harry hummed and accepted it, breathing the sweet scent of apples in before releasing a happy sigh. Harry loved anything sweet. The more sugar something had, the more Harry would want to have it in his mouth. Of course, Sebastian was very adamant that he was only allowed any sweets after he finished his healthy meals, but at least he was allowed sweet teas. He preferred them far over the usual ones.

“Is everything ready for us to leave?” Harry asked his butler calmly as he placed the cup back down.

“All is in order. We will leave once you have finished your breakfast, young master,” Sebastian replied swiftly, laying Harry’s clothes for the day out in front of them.

“Have we heard back from the Ministry yet?” Harry asked as he settled on the edge of the bed to allow his butler better access to dress him.

“A letter from Madame Bones arrived only half an hour ago, my Lord,” Sebastian told him while working. “I have placed it on your desk in the study. Should I retrieve it to read during breakfast?”

“Yes. Do so as soon as you are done here,” Harry agreed.

“Of course, young master.”

Once Harry was dressed properly, wearing a silk, dark green button-up shirt with a grey Calvin Klein blazer and black Stefano Ricci Flat-Front Trousers with Croc Trim, with black dress shoes underneath, Harry accepted his cane from the butler and the two set off to the dining room. His leg didn’t hurt much at the moment, but Harry knew that the burning could still start up later, so he refused to go anywhere without the cane at hand.

As expected, the table was already set for one as Harry arrived. Sebastian drew the chair back for his young master before he left the room momentarily. As soon as he was gone, Harry’s House Elf responsible for cooking, Bippity, popped in with his meal. Harry gave the young elf a grateful smile, which made the creature light up and he grinned back. Bippity was an older elf, who has once served a Dark family. He had been heavily abused, but when his owners had been arrested for being Death Eaters, he had gone back on the market. Harry had bought him specifically because of his past, the elf’s scars reminding him of his own.

“Thank you, Bippity,” he murmured.

“Bippity hopes young master enjoys his meal, sir!” the elf squeaked eagerly.

“I have never before been disappointed by your meals. I doubt I will be now.”

The elf blushed and bowed lowly before popping away again. Harry huffed out a soft laugh and dug into his eggs benedict with salmon. There were also two blueberry muffins, but he knew that if he ate them right away, Sebastian would refuse to let him have any kind of sweets the rest of the day. Not that he didn’t like the eggs. As he had told Bippity, the elf had never disappointed him.

“Here is Madame Bones’ letter, young master,” Sebastian announced as he walked back in.

Harry placed the silverware back down and dapped his mouth with a napkin before accepting the yellow parchment envelope. The back was sealed with a wax seal, the DMLE seal stamped on it. It still greatly amused Harry how old-fashioned the wizarding world was.

He broke the seal carefully, frowning as he noticed the shaking of his hands. He had been hopeful for a good day. It was still possible the shaking wouldn’t grow worse and his leg was still alright as well. He hoped he’d get through his daily duties without too much trouble. Sebastian was far too amused whenever Harry was too weak to finish them. Still, he got the letter out without complications and started reading.

_‘Lord Potter-Black,_

_While I would not recommend meeting with such a highly dangerous criminal under any other circumstances, your reasonings are very solid and worrying. As you suggested, I searched the records for any information on your Godfather_ _’s trials. You were right in believing them to be non-existing, though I must wonder how you knew such a thing if even I, the Head of the DMLE, was left unawares._

_This means not that Sirius Black is indeed innocent of course, but as you have demanded, we will ensure he has a proper trial. As the Head of his family, you will be allowed to speak with him before and you may provide his defence. He will need a strong one._

_I highly doubt the higher-ups will be happy to hear of this trial for Mr. Black, seeing that if he were to be proven innocent, they have to repay him for ten years of wrongful imprisonment in the highest security cells in Azkaban. Never mind the heavy backlash from the public and the fact that almost all wizards and witches imprisoned at that time may demand to be retried, as more than half have never had the one they deserved at the time._

_Sirius Black will be retrieved from Azkaban within a few hours and kept in a Ministry cell until his trial. If you wish to visit, please do so by asking for me first. We will keep the trial quiet until everything has been organized, lest anyone attempts to sabotage us._

_I hope for your assistance in fixing these terrible injustices._

_Madame Amelia Bones,_

_Head of the DMLE  
Lady Regent Bones_ _’_

“She has reacted favourably to our proposal,” Harry informed the butler.

“Then will we be visiting the Ministry soon?” Sebastian questioned.

Harry hummed and folded the letter back into the envelope before handing it back to his butler.

“We will do so after we have finished our business in Diagon Alley tomorrow,” Harry decided.

“As you wish, young Master.”

With that, Harry turned back to his breakfast, which he finished in silence. Once he was done, Sebastian called the maid Elf, Winnie, to clean up the dishes and led Harry out to the front. Betty stood at the door, alongside Bippity and their House Elf in charge of the garden, Chess. With a soft pop, Winnie joined the others and the four elves bowed deep.

“We wishes the young master good traveling!” Betty peeped out as she looked back up.

“Thank you, Betty. We entrust the Manor to your capable hands,” Sebastian spoke before following Harry out.

The limousine was already waiting for them out in the driveway. Harry nodded towards the driver, Oliver Jones, a squib whom had worked as a taxi driver for ten years before Sebastian had recruited him. That the man was a war veteran before that was of course a very large reason as to why he was now working as Harry’s personal driver. PTSD was a bitch, but thanks to Harry’s generous health-care, he was getting all the professional help a man could ask for.

As soon as Harry had made himself comfortable on the leather seats, Sebastian thrust several papers in his hands. Harry gave a soft sigh and brought out his reading glasses. He had his eyesight improved with laser therapy, but he still used glasses when he needed to focus for longer times on texts and books.

“Gringotts?” he muttered, not expecting a particular answer.

“It seems that they have a few possible business partners for Funtum Toys, my Lord,” Sebastian replied anyway. “They would like to meet with you soon to speak of the possibilities of certain investments, as well to get a more specific feel of your plans and ideals for the future of the company so they know who to suggest as possible partners.”

“I see,” Harry hummed thumbing through the files Gringotts had sent him. “Once we arrive in London, I will draft a letter to ask for a meeting with Griphook later this week.”

“Of course, young master,” Sebastian agreed approvingly.

They continued on in silence, the only sound that of rustling paper. His contacts at Gringotts had sent him information on several wizarding business owners, mostly for shops similar to his own, like Gambol & Japes and Zonko’s Joke Imperium, not that Harry was particularly interested in either of them. They only focused on prank supplies, while Harry sold all sorts of toys, both muggle and magical. To his surprise, they had also included Florean Fortescue’s Ice Cream Parlour and Sugarplum’s Sweets Shop as possible partners. Those were far more interesting to Harry.

“Sebastian. I want you to find me more information on Florean Fortescue and Suzanne Sugarplum,” he told the butler. “Any possible connections to Death Eaters or unresolved crimes surrounding their businesses. If they are clean, find out how interested they are in a partnership with Funtum Toys.”

“Shall I leave now?” Sebastian asked.

Harry looked up from his papers and looked blankly at his servant before shaking his head.

“No. You will do so later. I’ll have to stay in the whole day to finish my paperwork anyway,” he said. “I’ll be more than capable to miss you a few hours after lunch.”

“Yes, my Lord.”

Shortly after that, the limo drove onto the gravel driveway of the London Mansion. Harry knew it originally wasn’t supposed to belong to him. Sebastian had kept it, faking papers to claim it as his after he had devoured the soul of the former owner, Ciel Phantomhive. When he’d made Harry his new master, he had created a familial bond between Harry and Ciel that didn’t exist, allowing Harry to claim the Lordship and the properties still belonging to that name, including this one.

Harry sighed and stepped out of the car, the door being held open by Sebastian. The Mansion was completely rebuild like it had been a hundred years ago, which even included the furniture, though the electronics and plumbing had been updated and it now had several flat screen TVs as well.

“Welcome back, young master!” the four Elves who lived in this mansion chorused together.

Harry gave them all a soft smile and allowed Sebastian to take off his jacket to place it in the side-closet. Like the elves in Potter Manor, the Phantomhive Manor Elves were all dressed impeccably in job-appropriate attire. The Master Elf here was named Pip, a male with big blue eyes, wearing a small butler’s costume. His sister was Pepsi, the gardener of Phantomhive Manor, who wore a brown dress with an apron, and large green rainboots. The two had an unfortunate past, with an abusive former owner, but they were eager servants and very excitable.

The other two Elves were the cook, Pepper, another female who was dressed in all white, with an oversized chef’s hat on her head, and the maid, Bitsy.

“I will be going to the study to send a few letters,” Harry informed his servants. “Please make sure lunch is ready in an hour, Pepper.”

“Yes, young master!” the cook peeped happily, before popping away.

“Is master beings overworked again?” Pip asked worried, his big blue eyes growing even wider.

“I’m at perfect health, Pip,” Harry replied, smiling softly at the elf. “No need for concern.”

The elf reluctantly nodded, before turning back to the other two elves still watching them all.

“We best bes back to working!” Pip announced sternly.

Pepsi and Bitsy both nodded their heads hard enough to make their ears flop around before they too popped out of sight, Pip following their example after one more critical once-over of Harry’s person. The young boy huffed amused before he walked towards the study, Sebastian on his heels.

They were barely halfway through the hall, when suddenly, a burning pain in his right leg had Harry jerk and wince. He paused, biting the inside of his cheek as he tried to breath through the sudden pain. Behind, Sebastian had stopped as well and was now observing him in amusement. Harry closed his eyes and gritted his teeth before he continued on.

“Retrieve a Pain Potion for me, Sebastian,” Harry ordered, keeping his voice perfectly calm and steady as he spoke.

“Of course,” the demon replied before he disappeared.

Gripping his cane tighter, Harry continued on towards the study, where he quickly sat down behind his desk. One hand pressed against the burning muscles, which Harry gently massaged to relieve the pain as much as he could without potions or medication. He was well aware that Sebastian sometimes ‘forgot’ to add his potion into his morning tea and couldn’t help but wonder if today was such an occasion or if he was just unlucky enough that the pain burned through it.

Shortly after, Sebastian walked back in, potion vial in hand. He handed it over to the boy, who instantly uncorked it and downed the whole thing, his face barely scrunching up at the bitter taste of it. Sebastian simply smirked.

“I informed Bitsy to send you a cup of tea as soon as possible,” the butler informed his master.

Harry nodded tightly as he retrieved an empty page of letter paper from one of the desk’s drawers and a silver fountain pen from its holder on the desk itself. He wrote the letter to Gringotts with practiced ease, his handwriting a beautiful calligraphy thanks to Sebastian’s harsh teachings.

“Madame Bones has a niece your age, young master,” Sebastian spoke up slyly.

Harry glanced up and glared at his butler. Before he could open his mouth to reply, Bitsy popped into the room with a plate of biscuits and a steaming cup of tea. Harry relaxed instantly and smiled softly at the shy, brown-eyed elf. Her maid’s dress was baby pink instead of the usual black. Her own choice. Bitsy had once upon a time been a nurse to a young pureblood child, who had died of Dragon pox when it was only two years old. Bitsy had been laid off instantly.

“Thank you, Bitsy,” Harry murmured as he breathed in the aroma of wild berries from his tea.

The elf bowed low until her pointy nose nearly touched the ground before popping back out.

“Susan Mary Bones, daughter of Andrew Bones and Lorraine Bones née Wilson, half-blood. Mother a muggleborn, father a pureblood wizard and former head of the Department of Child Care. Both parents, including the entire Wilson family, the Bones grandparents and Joan Bones were murdered by Voldemort personally. Susan is the sole remaining heir to the family and is currently being raised by Madame Amelia Bones, the only other member of the Bones family that has survived the last war with Voldemort,” Harry rattled off in a bored drawl.

“If you try to hint at a possible marriage contract between me and her, I highly doubt it would be useful other than political connections,” he added, glaring at Sebastian. “A wizarding family only may hold two active titles after all. In my case, they are Lord Potter and Lord Black. On paper, I am also Lord Peverell and Lord Phantomhive, however, those are both dead names and have no sway anymore in the wizarding world.”

Actually, Harry shouldn’t even hold either of those titles. For one, Peverell belonged to Voldemort, who was the last known heir to the second Peverell son, Cadmus. Though even if one only were to look at Ignotus Peverell’s line, half wizarding Britain was related. It just so happened that Harry was the oldest child of the oldest child of the oldest child and so on, as he possessed the Invisibility Cloak… in name at least. He had no idea where it was.

“Susan will one day become Lady Bones, meaning that if I were to marry her, we’d have to rid ourselves of one title. I doubt she’d be willing to let that be hers,” Harry continued, snorting at the end. “Considering the main branch of the Potter line is completely gone except for me, ridding myself of that name would mean declaring the line to be dead, which I am unwilling. As for the Blacks. While the main line is there too gone, aside from Sirius Black, there are possible heirs still. Andromeda Black can’t inherit. She is disowned, just as my disgraced godfather, and Bellatrix is out as a convict, which makes inheriting Lordships illegal as well. This leaves either Narcissa Black, Nymphadora Tonks or Draco Malfoy.”

“But giving away the title would also lose you a lot of money and influence,” Sebastian finished for the boy, nodding in understanding. “Money and influence the Bones family doesn’t have.”

“Indeed,” Harry murmured as he finished his letter and rewarded himself with a chocolate biscuit.

He took a few sips of his tea afterwards, before pulling out a crisp envelope and placing his letter inside. After that, he dribbled some crimson candle wax on the crease and used his Potter signet ring to press his Family Crest in the cooling wax.

“Pip!” he called, to which the Elf in question instantly appeared before him. “This letter needs to be send to Gringotts instantly.”

“Pip will send an owl right away, young master!” the elf squeaked eagerly, accepting the letter as Harry held it out.

With another pop, the House Elf was gone again, leaving Harry alone with his butler. Sebastian brandished a silver pocket watch, sighing as he looked at the time.

“Lunch will be served shortly, young master,” he said. “I suggest we make way towards the dining room.”

There was a pause then, as Harry stood up, leaning more heavily on his cane than usually. The Pain Potion had done its work, but there was still a low, numbing burning in his leg and his muscles felt weaker than on his better days. Sebastian must have noticed as well, as the demon smirked.

“Would you prefer to be carried, young master?” the demon asked teasingly.

Harry send him a withering glare.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Votes on Harry's House so far:  
> Ravenclaw IIII  
> Slytherin II  
> Hufflepuff I
> 
> Poll still open by the way!


	3. His Butler, Justice

The next day, Harry was getting ready to meet his convicted godfather for the very first time in his life. He was a little nervous about it, though he tried not to let it show. What would happen if Sirius was indeed innocent? Would he demand Harry to come live with him? Would he try to appeal for custody even though Harry was emancipated? And what if he was guilty anyway? Harry had promised himself not to get attached, but could he really do that?

“Are you ready to leave, my Lord?” Sebastian asked, holding out Harry’s dark grey cloak to wear over his black Calvin Klein Wool Western Shirt.

Underneath, he wore Calvin Klein wool trousers and black Saint Laurent William Front Zip Boots. It was probably the part of being the richest person in Europa that Harry liked the most. With the Dursleys, he had been forced to wear his cousin’s hand-me-downs. Now, he wore the most expensive clothes he could wish for.

“Let’s go, Sebastian,” Harry muttered as he shrugged the cloak on.

Just as the day before, Oliver had already driven the car out front and was waiting to bring them downtown to the Leaky Cauldron. The Manor was a half hour drive from London Centrum and while Harry was more than capable in traveling by Floo, he preferred not to. In fact, Harry disliked all magical forms of transport equally.

The drive was rather calm, as Harry went over all the files they had on Sirius Black. He turned out to be a very active member of the Order of the Phoenix, as well as an ex-Auror. He was mentioned to have captured many Death Eaters during the war, alongside James Potter. The two of them had created several non-lethal spells that helped in disarming and capturing their enemies and had trained hit-wizards when the Ministry was desperate for more fighters.

“Odd, that simply because he was from a Dark family, he was suddenly an enemy instead,” Harry murmured.

“Humans see what they want to see, young master,” Sebastian replied, smiling lightly in fond amusement, like one would when talking about a child’s mistakes. “They turn against each other for the smallest of things. All because they are no longer useful to one another.”

Harry hummed in understanding.

“Sirius Black’s usefulness had expired with Voldemort’s disappearance,” he noted softly. “Instead, they now needed to act swiftly and arrest the one responsible of killing the Potters. The sooner someone was locked in Azkaban for it, the sooner they could forget it ever happened and go back to celebrating the fact that I was orphaned.”

The last part came out in a bitter whisper, which had Sebastian chuckle amused.

“Spoken as a true Phantomhive, young master,” the demon murmured.

Harry simply glared in reply and focused back on the files. He hated it when Sebastian compared him to his former master. Ciel Phantomhive was a strong person, someone who had succeeded in doing the impossible as the Queen’s Guard Dog, and Harry truly admired his predecessor, but he was still his own person. He refused to live in the shadow of a dead child.

Eventually, they arrived at the Leaky Cauldron, and Oliver parked nearby, activating the notice-me-not charm in the car as he stepped out along with his employer and the butler. Harry leaned heavily on his cane as he stepped into the dark, musty pub, his hood pulled over his head.

“Thank you for your services, Oliver. We’ll be back here around five,” Harry told his driver.

“I will be waiting here, young master,” the Squib replied, bowing before the young child.

They had garnered some attention from the patrons of the pub, but Harry diligently ignored them all as he walked over to the back, where he knew was the entrance to the wizarding shopping street. Well, if he were being honest, it was more like hobbling. His legs felt weak, as if he would just lose his ability to keep standing on them at any moment now. In addition, his nerves of his right leg were on fire, but he already had his Pain Potions, and taking more could result in more damage.

“How are the plans for the expansion of Funtum Magical Toys?” Harry asked annoyed. “As sooner as we have the permission necessary, we can start constructing our own entrance into Diagon Alley through our own shop instead of being forced to come through this dump.”

“I believe the goblins would be able to cast more light on that project than I, young master,” Sebastian replied patiently. “May I suggest you take it up with them during your next meeting?”

“I suppose I will,” Harry muttered, stopping in front of the wall.

He used his cane to tap the pattern on the wall that would allow the entrance to open to them. As it did, Sebastian took the lead, keeping close to Harry to make sure he wouldn’t fall or something equally humiliating. Together, they quickly made their way towards the Ministry of Magic to meet with Sirius Orion Black.

The walk was short, and while they received a lot of attention due to Harry’s difficult gait, the duo ignore any and all by-passers. Some kids laughed and pointed as Harry passed them, but the boy was more than used to that by now. He had been ridiculed his whole life. At this point, he was immune to it. Let them think what they wanted. Harry knew what he was worth, and it was more than all of them combined.

“We’re here, young master,” Sebastian spoke up, drawing Harry from his musings.

Harry looked up and noted that they were indeed in front of the Ministry building. He took a deep breath and walked up the steps into the large, magnificent building. As usual, it was bustling with people, though Harry had only been there twice before. Knowing exactly where he needed to go, Harry walked up to the front desk.

A young woman was sitting behind it, filing her nails with a detached boredom on her pretty face. Harry scowled in annoyance. He hated it when people didn’t take their jobs seriously. He’d gone through enough to know nothing should be taken for granted. _Ever._

“Excuse me ma’am,” Sebastian spoke up, smiling sweetly at the girl, who looked up and blushed. “We are here to meet with Madame Bones on the Black Case?”

“Of course, sir! I just need to see your wands for identification if you don’t mind,” she said.

Harry rolled his eyes and sneered.

“I’m underage and my butler is a Squib,” he said impatiently, showing his Lordship rings to the woman. “These should be enough identification.”

“Could you please inform Madame Bones of our presence, miss?” Sebastian asked sweetly, before the girl could open her mouth and reply to Harry.

The girl nodded her head eagerly and quickly rushed to contact Madame Bones, all the while stealing glances at Sebastian, blushing brightly each time she was caught. After a few short moments, the girl turned back towards them, smiling brightly at Sebastian while completely ignoring Harry.

“Madame Bones is expecting you at her office,” she said. “Do you know where that is, sir?”

“We do,” Sebastian replied calmly, turning away from her to instead look down at Harry. “Shall we, young master?”

“The sooner we get this over with, the better,” Harry muttered, sighing deeply as he walked towards the elevators.

They walked up to the elevators and rode it to the Department of Magical Law Enforcement. The walk to Madame Bones’ office was both short and familiar, still, more than enough Aurors were staring at them as they walked, their whispers too soft to understand, yet still annoying enough to cause Harry to scowl. As he reached the door, he used his cane to knock.

“Enter!” the voice of Amelia Susan Bones called out.

Sebastian leaned over his young charge to open the door, and gave a light bow at the waist as Harry stepped inside. The demon threw one last look at the humans all still staring at them and smirked, before he followed after his master and closed the door again.

“Lord Potter-Black,” Madame Bones greeted, her face stern, yet amusement twinkling in her brown eyes. “I should have expected you would take me up on my offer this soon.”

“The sooner we get this over and done with, the better,” Harry replied, with a short nod in the woman’s direction. “Justice should be swift, not festering.”

“Indeed it should,” Madame Bones hummed. “I suspect you wish to speak with your ward?”

“As soon as possible,” Harry agreed.

The Head of the DMLE chuckled amused and pressed the intercom button on her desk.

“Aurors Shackelbolt and Tonks, report at my office,” she spoke, before turning the com off again and looking back over at Harry. “They will show you to the holding cells and get you and Mr. Black an interrogation room to talk peacefully.”

Harry smiled softly at that and inclined his head slightly.

“Thank you, Madame,” he murmured.

The door opened moments later and two people walked inside, dressed in their bright red Auror robes. One was a tall, broad-shoulder black man his head bald and face stern. The other was a slight young woman with a pale, heart-shaped face, striking blue eyes and bubble-gum pink, pixy-cut hair.

“Ah. You two are expected to show Lord Black to his ward,” Madame Bones told her two Aurors. “Make sure they have all the privacy Lord Black wishes, understood?”

“Yes Ma’am,” the man spoke, his voice deep and soft.

The girl smiled brightly and instantly turned towards Sebastian.

“If you would follow us, Lord Black,” she told him.

Sebastian chuckled softly while Madame Bones gave an ungraceful snort in amusement at her Auror’s honest mistake. Harry rolled his eyes and used his cane to hit his servant over the head.

“Wipe that smirk off your face, Sebastian,” he ordered good-naturedly. “I’d almost think you _like_ being addressed by my titles.”

The young woman’s eyes widened in surprise and horror, but Harry gave her a small smile.

“If you would be so kind as to lead us the way, Auror Shackelbolt?” he asked her.

“I-It’s… I’m Tonks…” she murmured embarrassed.

“And I’m Lord Hadrian Potter-Black,” Harry shot back, his eyes twinkling in amusement. “Nymphadora Andromeda Tonks, Metamorphmagus, youngest Auror in three generations. And Kingsley Shackelbolt, one of the famous heavy-hitters. Order of Merlin third class after his brave actions in the war against Voldemort and his Death Eaters.”

The Aurors and their boss stared at Harry in silent shock at his knowledge, but the quiet was soon disturbed, as Auror Shackelbolt chuckled softly, his dark eyes glittering with mirth as he looked at the young Lord before him.

“This way, please, Lord Potter-Black,” he said.

Harry grins at him and waves his hand, indicating to the Auror to lead the way. He already knows where he needs to go. He’d ordered Sebastian to get him the Ministry blueprints months ago and he’s studied them enough that he is can comfortably say that he knows his way around better than most of its employees. Barring, perhaps, the Unspeakables.

The same can be said about the people who work here. Harry’s had a list on them all since before he set his first foot in the wizarding world. His past had ensured he would never again be caught unawares. He has files on almost anyone of importance. He knows of Lucius Malfoy, who got out of a sentence in Azkaban by throwing money at the ministry, and Severus Snape, former Death Eater and now Hogwarts’ resident Potions Master. Harry would make short work of those two soon enough. No Death Eater would be left roaming the streets by the time he was done with this world.

They walked down to the lowest levels of the Ministry, near where Harry knew the Department of Mysteries was located. The holding cells were in sight when Harry and Sebastian were stopped and Tonks opened a heavy metal door.

“This is one of the interrogation rooms. You can settle here while we bring you your client, Lord Potter-Black,” she said.

Harry nodded and walked in, followed by his butler. There was a heavy metal desk in the middle of the grey room, a chair on each side of it. The one nearest to the door was relatively comfortable looking, but just barely, while the other one was solid metal with shackles on the arm-rests and the front legs. Harry eyed them a bit in distaste.

As he sat down on the proper chair, he noticed that Auror Tonks. The young woman was staring at him with curiosity in her bright eyes, though she seemed to be hesitant to address it. Harry simply looked back at her and raised an expecting eyebrow, making Tonks blush.

“You’re… you’re Harry Potter, right?” she mumbled shyly.

“I prefer to be addressed either by my title or my full name,” Harry told her calmly. “Those being Lord Potter-Black and Hadrian. Since I don’t believe us to be on first name basis, I suggest keeping to the first option. However, yes, I am indeed him.”

The woman blushed even harder and nodded her head in understanding before turning away and all but fleeing the room. Harry chuckled softly in amusement and looked over towards Sebastian.

“You are doing well, my Lord,” the demon told him with a soft smile.

This made Harry blush slightly. With a scowl, Harry turned away again, instead staring determinedly at the desk in front of him as he tried to expel the heat from his cheeks. Sebastian’s praises always made something in his belly squirm with pride in a way he had been unfamiliar with before he’d met the demon. Perhaps it had to do with his lack of affection during his childhood. Before the deal he’d made with the demon, Harry had never been praised for anything. Even if Sebastian’s care was a carefully created façade, Harry was still touched by it and he desperately wished he wasn’t.

It didn’t take long before the Aurors were back, Sirius Black in between them, his hands shackled in front of him and wearing a ratty prison garb. Harry grimaced at the sight of him. The man looked more like a corpse than a man. His figure was skeletal in its thinness and his cheeks and eyes were sunken. His ling hair was matted with dirt and greying beyond his years. He was truly a sorry sight.

As soon as the man laid his eyes on Harry, he stopped walking, his dark eyes that had before looked dull and tired seemed to sparkle with hope at the recognition of who it was he stood before.

“Harry,” he breathed, the name soft on his tongue, like a prayer, like if he spoke it too loudly, Harry would vanish in thin air.

Harry stayed quiet and simply watched as Shackelbolt pushed Sirius forward and towards the chair. The shackles on the char jumped to life instantly and wrapped around Black’s arms and ankles, in addition to the chains already there. Harry had to force back a wince in sympathy. That couldn’t be comfortable in the slightest. Once they made sure Sirius was properly secured, the two Aurors stepped back, but stayed in the room.

“Thank you for your assistance, you may leave now,” Harry told them calmly.

Tonks scowled while Shackelbolt shook his head in denial.

“We are here to ensure your safety, Lord Potter-Black,” he said.

Harry held back a smirk as he saw his ward’s eyes widen as he whispered ‘Lord Potter-Black’ to himself as if he couldn’t quite believe he heard it right. Harry simply rolled his eyes and glared at the two Aurors until Tonks started shifting nervously.

“My master is perfectly safe with me,” Sebastian spoke up softly, but self-assured. “Madame promised my master could have privacy to speak with his ward. Please leave his protection to me.”

“You’re a squib,” Shackelbolt deadpanned. “How do you plan to protect the young Lord against a trained hit wizard?”

Sebastian smirked at the question while Harry rolled his eyes.

“What kind of servant of the Potter-Black household would I be if I couldn’t at least protect my young master?” the demon responded while Harry mouthed the words along with him.

Sirius snorted loudly and Tonks had to cover her mouth to keep from laughing. Even Shackelbolt seemed to be amused by Harry’s antics. Sebastian took it all in stride though, as he opened the door and gently pushed the two Aurors out.

“Well done, Sebastian,” Harry spoke calmly, before he turned towards Sirius. “At least now we can get to business.”

“Business?” Sirius asked, looking beyond confused. “Harry… what’s going on? How can you be a Lord? Why are we here? No one is telling me anything here.”

“We’re getting you a proper trial,” Harry replied calmly. “As Lord Black, I have the right to demand one for you, a ward of the House of Black. Your mother may have disowned you, but I temporarily added you back to the family, as I did with Andromeda Black and her daughter, Auror Tonks.”

Sirius nodded dumbly at the explanation, his mouth hanging open as he stared at Harry.

“B-but _how_?!” he asked again.

Harry smirked bitterly and leaned back in his seat.

“Gaining the titles was easy once I had the right contacts,” he spoke vaguely. “I prefer not to go into it deeper.”

“Alright…” Sirius muttered. “So… you’re here to set me free?”

“Only if you are proven innocent,” Harry replied bluntly. “The thing is that I have no idea whether you are or not. The only proof against you is that you were at the scene of the crime, however, the victim was never recovered. I find it highly unlikely that only a finger could be found, so I have my people attempt to find more information on the possible location of Peter Pettigrew.”

Sirius’ eyes darkened at the mention of his former friend and he surged forward, only held back by his chains. Harry didn’t flinch and just met Sirius’ mad gaze with his own cold one.

“That rat is the traitor!” the man spat hatefully. “He betrayed them! The coward went running to the Dark Lord and when he realized I had him cornered, he faked his own death to put the blame on me!”

“We’ll see about that,” Harry replied calmly. “I hope to find proper evidence before the trial. Sebastian will act as your lawyer. He has studied up on wizarding law and he will ensure justice is served as it should.”

That being said, Harry stood back up, leaning heavily on his cane as he started walking back towards the door, where Sebastian was patiently waiting, posture straight and relaxed, as it always was. Sirius jumped up, but the chains forced him to fall back heavily in the chair.

“You’re leaving again?” he asked desperately. “But we have barely talked! How are you doing? Who do you live with? Are you happy?”

Harry scowled and looked back at the man over his shoulder, his single visible eye frigid and perfectly void of any kind of emotion.

“I am doing quite alright,” he said in a neutral tone. “I live with no one but my servants, as I have been emancipated since I was nine.”

He paused there, looking away again.

“And my happiness is of no consequence,” he murmured, more to himself than to Sirius. “I will get done what needs to get done with or without _happiness_.”

The last word was spoken with surprising bitterness, that it had Sirius lean back in shock. The poor man was so horrified at what the child he had been meant to protect had become in his absence that he couldn’t speak again for a few minutes. Harry sighed at the shocked silence and walked up to Sebastian, who opened the door for him. At the creaking of the old hinches, Sirius was pulled from his stupor and he surged up again.

“Harry!” Sirius called after the retreating figure of his estranged godson. “Thank you, for doing this.”

Harry had paused again at the call of his name, and as he heard Sirius thank him, he turned around to look at the convict with a coldness in his one visible eye not seen on his youthful face before. Behind him, Sebastian watched with great amusement, his smile widening as he saw the expression of hope slowly melt off Sirius’ pallid face.

“I will have _justice,_ Sirius,” Harry spoke harshly. “If you spend your whole life rotting away in Azkaban, you will do so because you are guilty, not because you were the most convenient suspect.”

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The current score on Harry's Hogwarts House:
> 
> Ravenclaw IIIIIII  
> Slytherin IIIIII  
> Hufflepuff I
> 
> The voting will go on a little longer. Probably for two more chapters before we get to Harry's sorting!
> 
> Also, thank you everyone who's sent me House elf names. I currently don't need any more, but if I do, I'll definitely let you guys know!


	4. His Butler, Business

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I want to apologize to everyone who has been waiting for this update. I had a writer’s block, which kind of descended into a depression and after that I had a shoulder infection. That’s luckily all over and now I’m back to writing!!! Yay!
> 
> The end of this chapter was heavily inspired by Harry Potter and the Philosopher's Stone.

Out of all of his dealings, the ones with the Goblins of Gringotts were Harry’s least favourite. Not because he was biased against their race. No, quite the opposite. He held the Goblins in high regard. The problem was that they were _too_ good in their job. They intimidated the eleven year old Lord.

“Ready to head out, young master?” Sebastian questioned as he helped Harry in his clothes.

Today, Harry wore black flat front trousers, a light blue Gucci Embroidered cotton Duke shirt with above it with a bright blue waist coat with golden buttons and a black Chanel Silk Double-Breasted Peacoat. He finished his morning tea – an exotic blend of mango and oranges – as Sebastian tied his polished black Patent Leather Tuxedo Oxford Shoes from Salvatore Ferragamo.

“All done to be tortured at Gringotts,” the pre-teen muttered as he set his cup on the bed, where Sebastian was quick to pick it up and place it instead on the silver tray on the bedside table.

The demon merely chuckled as he stepped back to let his charge stand up. At the demandingly stuck out hand of the boy, Sebastian hurried to take the walking cane from its spot next to the bedroom door and handed it over.

“Let’s go, Sebastian,” Harry ordered as he walked out of the door.

“Yes, My Lord,” Sebastian replied amused, bowing to his master’s retreating back.

.              .              .              .              .

The wizarding district in London was bigger than just Diagon Alley, though that was the street you needed to be if you wanted to shop for Hogwarts. Diagon Alley was a long, winding cobblestone street with shops on either side. The only large building in the entire street was Gringotts, which lay on the crossroads with Mystic Alley. It was a small alley, only about half a kilometre long with mostly obscure shops for divination and apothecaries. The rare magi-vet, antique shop and book store could also be found here.

Not so far from where the Leaky Cauldron was situated in Diagon lay Horizon Alley. This was mostly a residential area, which was largely filled with buildings that were three to four storeys high. About half of them had some kind of shop on the ground floor. There were a few bakeries and coffee shops, next to a few other quaint little family shops. There lay Harry’s only real rival in the magical Toy manufacturing. Aunty May’s Magical Toys were handmade toys made originally by an old lady named May Miller who had stayed childless. She had long since passed away, but her nephew had taken over and kept the name. The Wizarding World had several joke shops, but strangely no toy shops until Harry had reformed Funtum Co.

Horizon Alley split into Vertic Alley about halfway. Just like the former, Vertic was mainly a residential street. Only, instead of apartments, it held medium-prize terraced houses. The houses were relatively small, with either three or two storeys and only five to seven meters in width. Harry had never bothered going inside to find out if there was any kind of enlargement charm on it. All was done in in the same charming medieval style as the shops in Diagon.

Halfway through Vertic was the entrance to a small cobblestone street named Flor Alley. It was pretty much the same as Vertic Alley, but smaller and with an adorable little teashop next to a small bakery that was famous for its giggling gingerbread. Harry found them to be more disturbing than amusing, but he supposed that was due to his muggle upbringing.

At the end of Vertic Alley, it flowed into the largest and widest street in Magical London. Colloss Alley was the only street that held modern buildings in either gloomy grey bricks or concrete and up to eight storeys in a few cases. This was the business street. It held three Law Businesses, as well as the main entrance to both the Ministry of Magic and St. Mungo’s. It was also where the offices of Gringotts were stationed in one of the largest buildings.

This was where Harry and Sebastian were headed today. While they could take a quick route directly into Colloss Alley through a side door, invisible to the muggle eye to the Bank of England Museum in Bartholomew Lane, Harry decided to pass through Diagon Alley to visit his own shop for a quick check-up.

As before, Oliver drove Harry and Sebastian to the Leaky Cauldron. There the man would stay for a few drinks, followed by a Sobriety Potion before driving them back home after the young Lord had finished with his business for the day.

“Let’s go. We don’t have any time to waste,” Harry muttered to his servant as they arrived at the Leakey Cauldron.

He nodded towards the bartender in greeting as they passed by and quickly moved on to the entrance to Diagon Alley. Once there, Harry resolutely walked towards his shop with his loyal demon at his heels and entered through the front door.

The shop was not all that big, about a solid 20 metres wide and 30 metres deep. It held toys of all kinds, board games, teddy bears, beautiful handcrafted dolls, both those without magic and those who were spelled to act as if they were alive.

His patented Nanny Bears were one of his best-selling products. Large stuffed animals who were partially sentient, making them able to care for small children. They were charmed to sing five different lullabies and could read from children’s books. They even had tracking charms linked to their charge so they never lost the child they were meant to care for.

The Dancing Dolls were a definite favourite amongst young girls, just like his Warrior Wizards were the popular gift to young boys. They were modelled after muggle action figures and were capable of producing colourful sparks with their tiny toy wands to emulate duelling. Other popular toys were things like Singing Snitches, Weredolls – which turned into stuffed animals under the moonlight – and Flying Locomotives.

Harry’s all-time favourite by far, however was definitely the Holo-Game Console. It looked like a simple box and came with two shiny toy wands. A gamecard, similar to the cartridge of a Gameboy, had to be inserted and the game would appear as a holographic above the box. The toy wands served as controllers to allow the players to enjoy the games. So far, he had brought out six different games for his Console.

Unfortunately, it was too different to what the wizarding world was used to, so most were wary of buying it. It didn’t help that the Holo-Game Console was by far the most expensive toy in his shop.

“Master Lord Potter-Black, Sir!” an excited voice called out.

The seven browsing customers looked over as the House Elf that had seconds before been manning the cash register suddenly popped in front of Harry and bowed deeply, its hooked nose brushing against the clean floor.

“Good day, Bobby,” Harry greeted with a soft smile. “How is the shop doing?”

“Shop be doing perfect Master Lord Potter-Black sir!” Bobby replied happily, wringing his thin, spidery hands eagerly wringing the baby blue shirt he wore above pink and white striped pants. “We bes selling four Dancy Dollies yesterdays, and two Magic Math-sets, and a Nanny Bear! And –”

“Thank you, Bobby, but I don’t need the whole summary,” Harry stopped him with a chuckle. “I just need to get the report from Mocha and I’ll be on my way again.”

“Of course, Master Lord Potter-Black sir!” Bobby agreed, nodding his head fast enough that Harry almost worried it was going to fall off. “Mocha bes in his office now, if Master Lord Potter-Black sir wants to go there now.”

“Thank you, Bobby,” Harry said before walking towards the back.

At the backdoor, another House Elf was waiting for him. She wore a similar outfit as Bobby, only with a pink blouse, a pale blue Lolita skirt and pink and white striped leggings. She had a nametag on her chest, stating her name was Lizzie, and listed her occupation as Head Customer Service.

“Good morning Master Lord Potter-Black sir!” she greeted joyfully. “We wes very happy to have yous visiting today! Can Lizzie bes doing something for you?”

“No need, Lizzie,” he told her kindly. “I’m just here for the report from Mocha. I have a meeting with the Goblins in half an hour.”

“I is understanding, Master Lord Potter-Black sir,” the elf squeaked, stepping aside to let Harry walk into the back of the shop. “If Master needs anything, just call for Lizzie and Lizzie will come.”

“Thank you, Lizzie. I will,” Harry replied.

With that, the elf beamed at him before popping further into the shop to help a small family of three decide on which toy they wished to buy.

As Harry and Sebastian passed through the toy workshop to get to Mocha’s office, they were greeted by all of Harry’s employees. Aside from Mocha, Lizzie and Bobby, Funtum Toys employed six more elves. Annie, who was surprisingly creative, was Head of Development. Her task was to come up with new ideas for toys, as well as to oversee the five toy crafters in the workshop. It was also her idea to dress her subordinates up as Christmas Elves, and the other five had taken to the uniform with gleeful excitement that House Elves were known for.

Unlike talking with the other elves, Mocha was quick and to the point. He was a very serious and professional elf, with a few frown-lines on his old face. He was a whiz at mathematics and bookkeeping, having served under a wizarding business mogul before being hired by Harry a little over a year ago.

Once Harry had gotten the report from the old, grave elf, he thanked his employees for all their hard work and left the shop again, this time heading straight to Colloss Alley. He ignored the stares he got for his limping gait as he made his way towards the entrance to the Gringotts Offices. The Goblin Guards checked his ID and his invitation before sending him up to the sixth floor to the office of his liaison, Larkoff Irontooth. Of course, before being allowed into the room, two more guards searched them both for weapons, which of course they did not find.

Like all of Goblinkind, Larkoff was a gruff, unfriendly man. His dark grey hair was thinning and he had several liver spots on his wrinkly face. He greeted Harry with the minimal respect required from Gringotts employees towards their clients and went straight to business.

“Your shop is doing remarkably well this year, Lord Potter-Black,” Larkoff spoke in a deep rumble. “Funtum has earned as much as Zonko’s and Jambol and Japes combined. According to our correspondence, you are not interested in joining with either of them. Correct?”

“They have nothing of interest to offer me,” Harry replied coolly. “Now, I believe that if I were to be able to become partners with Sugarplum’s Sweets, _that_ would be a business venture worth its while.”

Larkoff smirked at Harry’s words and put the papers down.

“I will contact their liaison and set up a meeting between yourself and Madam Sugarplum, then,” He stated. “For, of course the usual fee of five Galleons, and for another fifteen, we will even let this meeting take place here at one of our offices.”

As always, the Goblin took every opportunity to get some more gold from Harry. The pre-teen just nodded along passively in his consent.

“Please do so. Thank you for your hard work, Larkoff,” Harry spoke as he stood up from his seat.

The Goblin inclined his head, his beady eyes glittering in cold amusement.

“A pleasure doing business, as always, Lord Potter-Black,” he replied.

.              .              .              .              .

“I believe this would be a good time to get your school shopping done, Young Master,” Sebastian spoke up as they exited the building.

“I will be visiting Madam Malkins and Ollivander’s, then,” Harry replied in agreement. “I expect you do purchase everything else on the list for me while I do so.”

“Of course, My Lord,” the butler replied, bowing slightly.

Sebastian left Harry in front of Madam Malkins to buy his books and other school supplies, leaving the pre-teen lord to enter the shop by himself.

Madam Malkin was a squat, smiling witch dressed all in mauve.

“Hogwarts, clear?" she asked, when Harry started to speak. "Got the lot here. Another young man being fitted up just now, in fact.”

In the back of the shop, a boy with a pale, pointed face was standing on a footstool while a second witch pinned up his long black robes. Madam Malkin stood Harry on a stool next to him, slipped a long robe over his head, and began to pin it to the right length.

“Hello,” the blond boy greeted “Hogwarts, too?”

“Yes,” Harry answered curtly, not really feeling like talking with the boy.

“My father's next door buying my books and mother's up the street looking at wands,” said the boy in a bored, drawling voice. “Then I'm going to drag them off to look at racing brooms. I don't see why first years can't have their own. I think I'll bully father into getting me one and I'll smuggle it in somehow.”

Harry already didn’t like the other kid, but simply nodded. He had manners after all. No need to make a potential enemy out of a future classmate.

“Have you got your own broom?” the boy went on.

“No,” Harry replied, refraining from rolling his eyes.

“Play Quidditch at all?”

“No,” Harry said again, getting increasingly annoyed.

“I do. Father says it's a crime if I'm not picked to play for my house, and I must say, I agree. Know what house you'll be in yet?”

“No.” Probably Slytherin or Ravenclaw, but that was none of this boy’s business.

“Well, no one really knows until they get there, do they, but I know I'll be in Slytherin, all our family have been. Imagine being in Hufflepuff, I think I'd leave, wouldn't you?”

Great. They were still talking about this drivel, it seemed.

“I’d be honoured to be in Hufflepuff,” Harry replied coolly.

“Why’s that? Not even the Hufflepuffs want to be in Hufflepuff. They’re just a load of duffers,” the boy asked affronted.

This time, Harry did roll his eyes and instead set to ignoring the bothersome blonde. Hopefully, he’d take the hint and leave him alone. Luckily, Madam Malkin took that moment to speak up, stopping any possible argument in its tracks.

“That's you done, my dear,” and Harry, not sorry for an excuse to stop talking to the boy, hopped down from the footstool.

“What’s with that walk anyway?” the obnoxious boy piped up again. “Are you some kind of invalid?”

Harry gritted his teeth as he payed for his school robes and accepted the package from the kind shop-owner. She gave him an apologetic look, which he ignored as he turned to pin the blond boy with an icy glare.

“Why don’t you ask your father about it, Malfoy,” he suggest in a dark tone before spinning around and hobbling out of the suddenly deathly silent shop.

With a deep sigh, Harry collected his turbulent emotions again and started walking towards the wand shop. The shop was narrow and shabby. Peeling gold letters over the door read _Ollivander_ _’s: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C._ A single wand lay on a faded purple cushion in the dusty window.

A tinkling bell rang somewhere in the depths of the shop as they stepped inside. It was a tiny place, empty except for a single, spindly chair that Hagrid sat on to wait. Harry felt strangely as though he had entered a very strict library. He swallowed a lot of new questions that had just occurred to him and looked instead at the thousands of narrow boxes piled neatly right up to the ceiling. For some reason, the back of his neck prickled. The very dust and silence in here seemed to tingle with some secret magic.

“Ah yes,” a mysterious voice suddenly spoke up. “Yes, yes. I thought I'd be seeing you soon. Harry Potter. You have your mother's eyes. The one that’s visible anyway. It seems only yesterday she was in here herself, buying her first wand. Ten and a quarter inches long, swishy, made of willow. Nice wand for charm work.”

“I’m not interested in hearing about my mother’s wand, Ollivander,” Harry spoke up, glaring at the old man that slowly walked out of the shadows and crept towards him. “I can see it and my father’s whenever I want back at my home.”

Both wands lay in a glass display in the drawing room of the Cottage in Godric’s Hollow. It had taken him well over a year, and several threats of lawsuits to get the deeds of the place back from the Ministry. After that, he’d hired a few House Elves to fix the place up back to its former glory. Now, he stayed there usually for the months October, November and December. He felt the most need to be near his parents during those times.

“Of course, of course. You want to know about _your own_ wand,” the old man whispered.

Mr. Ollivander moved closer to Harry. Harry wished he would blink. Those silvery eyes were a bit creepy. Still, he refused to show his discomfort to the man.

“Well, now, Mr. Potter. Let me see.” Ollivander spoke as he pulled a long tape measure with silver markings out of his pocket. “Which is your wand arm?”

Harry stayed silent as he held out his right arm for the man. The man immediately got to work. He measured Harry from shoulder to finger, then wrist to elbow, shoulder to floor, knee to armpit and round his head. It was annoying and invasive, but Harry let it happen for the sake of buying a wand.

“Every Ollivander wand has a core of a powerful magical substance, Mr. Potter. We use unicorn hairs, phoenix tail feathers, and the heartstrings of dragons. No two Ollivander wands are the same, just as no two unicorns, dragons, or phoenixes are quite the same. And of course, you will never get such good results with another wizard's wand.”

Harry hummed, only half listening as the tape measure continued measuring the space between his nostrils on its own as Ollivander looked around the shelves of wands for the right one.

“That will do,” he said, and the tape measure crumpled into a heap on the floor. “Right then, Mr. Potter. Try this one. Beechwood and dragon heartstring. Nine inches. Nice and flexible. just take it and give it a wave.”

Harry took it and waved it. He’d barely done so before Ollivander snatched it back, shaking his head as he quickly grabbed for another wand.

“Maple and phoenix feather. Seven inches. Quite whippy.”

This time, Harry barely even got to lift his arm before the wand was snatched back.

“No, no. Here, ebony and unicorn hair, eight and a half inches, springy. Go on, go on, try it out.”

It went on like this for a good twenty minutes, where Harry tried wand after wand. He became increasingly irritated by his lack of progress. Ollivander, on the other hand, seemed to become happier and happier with each wand he forced Harry to try out.

“Tricky customer, eh? Not to worry, we'll find the perfect match here somewhere. I wonder, now… yes, why not… unusual combination… holly and phoenix feather, eleven inches, nice and supple.”

Harry took the wand with a frown before he felt a sudden warmth in his fingers. He raised the wand above his head, brought it swishing down through the dusty air and a stream of silver and gold sparks shot from the end like a firework, throwing dancing spots of light on to the walls.

“Oh, bravo! Yes, indeed, oh, very good. Well, well, well... how curious... how very curious...”

“Is there something wrong, Mr. Ollivander?” Harry asked annoyed.

Mr. Ollivander fixed Harry with his pale stare.

“I remember every wand I've ever sold, Mr. Potter. Every single wand. It so happens that the phoenix whose tail feather is in your wand, gave another feather -- just one other. It is very curious indeed that you should be destined for this wand when its brother why, its brother gave you that scar.”

Harry’s eyes widened in shock at this confession and looked back at his wand.

“Yes, thirteen-and-a-half inches. Yew. Curious indeed how these things happen. The wand chooses the wizard, remember.... I think we must expect great things from you, Mr. Potter.... After all, He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named did great things – terrible, yes, but great.”

Harry scowled as he handed the wand back to Ollivander, who replaced it back in his box and wrapped it up in brown paper. Harry then quickly payed him the seven Galleons and hurried out of the store with his new purchase. If he ever had to return there, it would be too soon.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Current state on the voting on which House Harry should be in:
> 
> Slytherin 38  
> Ravenclaw 21  
> Hufflepuff 9

**Author's Note:**

> I decided to start a new story, however, it won't be updated until after New Year. The reason is because I need your input on a few little things for later on!
> 
> 1\. I need a lot of House Elf names. A lot. If you have any suggestions, please let me know in the comments below.
> 
> 2\. Harry will either be in Slytherin or Ravenclaw. If anyone has a preferance, let me know in the comments below as well!
> 
> I will ask for more suggestions in later chapters as well.  
> Thank you so much for reading and I hoped you enjoyed it! ^_^


End file.
